Stressed
by Balakirev
Summary: Just let them rest


Lance missed everything. Home, his family, the earth, the rain, he'd said it all before but it only got him so far, to say he missed things. They all _missed_ things.

But that all came in second to defending the universe. After all, earth was a part of the universe. It was either defend, or let his family be slaughtered, and Lance would sooner die than let that happen.

He used to sleep well.

Now, though? Lance had trouble falling asleep—he didn't doubt that this happens plenty to the rest of the members of the team, so he didn't say anything. And he tried to deal with it, god, he really did, but then he noticed how dark the marks under his eyes had become, but by that time it was off to the training deck, or suiting up for another mission, or strategizing with the rest of the team. Free time had become a foreign concept to all of them.

Lance had been used to keeping busy, being surrounding by noise and people back on earth, every day when he was home with his family. Then at the garrison, where it was early mornings and different sorts of training, little or no time for naps and always being surrounded by people.

Now, it was him, four other Paladins, Coran, and Allura. Seven people, one enormous ship, and one endless universe, terrifying and incredible and beautiful and deadly and sometimes, it just became too much.

The nightmares were inevitable.

But then, Shiro got those too, right? Not that _Shiro_ ever talked about it, but it was known amongst the team, even if no one ever really said anything about it. They all knew it wasn't exactly healthy, but they didn't have the luxury of a vacation, or even a day off, to deal with that.

So Lance bundled himself up underneath the sheets of his bed, in the room that he didn't have to share with anyone but sometimes wondered if that might be better, and silently wished that he could… well, for starters? He wished he could sleep.

 **()0()**

It didn't take long for the nightmare to wake him.

Lance sat upright in bed, gasping and clawing at the sheets, trying to get his siblings to safety, heart hammering away when he saw his mother watching, horrified, as the armored hand of a Galra grabbed his shoulder to take him away.

"Ma!" he shouted as he sat up, blearily reaching out with one hand, "Mama! It's going to be okay, I—"

Oh.

He blinked, staring around the empty bedroom.

His fringe of hair clung sweaty to his brow. Swiping a sleeve across the sheen of sweat, Lance took a deep breath in, then out, and repeated the action about ten more times before his heart didn't feel like it was about to come bursting right out of his chest.

 _Everything is fine, she's safe, they're safe…_

And then his brain caught up with the words.

No, no, everything was not fine.

It was all far, far from fine. In fact, a million light years from fine.

His family and his planet were only safe if _he,_ Lance, helped form Voltron every time they did battle, they were only safe if the team continued to fight this war for… how long? The rest of their lives?

That was the question of the day. And no one had a good answer.

Wiping the sleep from his eyes, Lance looked around tiredly and realized he probably wouldn't be able to fall back asleep any time soon, and by the time he did, the morning alarms would be signaling them all up for breakfast and training. Or a battle. Either one. One good night's sleep, that was _all_ he asked.

But it obviously wasn't going to happen tonight.

With a sigh, Lance threw off the sheets and slipped on his boots, wondering if maybe he should pull a Keith and head to the training deck to work off some of the stress.

 _Rap rap rap._

Someone was knocking at his bedroom doors.

Brow furrowed, Lance quickly stood up and shuffled to the doors, stretching his arms and cracking his neck, still feeling out of it. No one but him could be up this late, could they? Maybe it was Shiro. If anyone could suffer from the same level of insomnia, it would definitely be Shiro. Frowning, Lance curiously hovered a finger over the lock, before pushing the button that sent the doors swishing open. Speak of the devil.

"…Keith?"

Sure enough, Keith—not Shiro—stood in Lance's doorway, looking a bit awkward as he shifted from foot to foot, sporting his go-to black v-neck and some baggy cargo pants. His boots, however, were nowhere to be seen, in lieu of a ratty pair of socks he'd probably been wearing since yesterday.

"Hey," he said, rubbing the back of his neck and not making eye contact. "Um… sorry, I uh, heard you. Shouting , I mean." He looked like he was about to say something else, but he went to bite his lip instead.

"Oh…" Lance's eyebrows scrunched together, sleepy and confused. "Um, sorry?"

Keith quickly backpedaled. "Sorry? Oh! No, no I didn't mean it like that," he shook his head, looking uncharacteristically apologetic, and to Lance, it looked too _weird_. Because come on, Keith? Feeling bad for making Lance apologize? "You didn't wake me, I was just—"

"Wait, you mean you've been awake, too?" Lance asked, feeling even more confused now. "Why?"

"I might ask you the same thing," Keith muttered, "but from the sound of your yelling a minute ago, I'd say I have a pretty good idea."

Lance could feel himself turning a bit pink. Great, so Keith had come to laugh at him. "So, what?" he snapped. "You here to tell me to suck it up and go back to sleep?"

"N-no!" Keith stammered. Gosh, the poor guy looked so torn, Lance almost felt bad. Keith ran a hand through his dark hair—bedhead, so at least he must have gotten _some_ sleep. "I woke up about an hour ago, so I thought maybe I'd go up and train for a little while."

"Typical."

Scowling, Keith continued, "And I was passing by, that was all. I know you haven't been sleeping well lately, you look way more tired that you ever used to when we first got here. Which I get, since we're all tired. But you uh.." Man, when did this suddenly get awkward? Did Keith actually _care?_ "You just, I dunno, seemed a little off, lately?" With a quick shrug, he looked pointedly at Lance, who didn't doubt for a second how exhausted he must look. _And_ gross. He'd stopped using the face masks when his supply of skin cream started to run low, and it wasn't like he'd brushed his hair before answering the door when Keith came knocking.

"So…" Lance said after a moment of dead air, "you were checking up on me?"

"Guess so, yeah."

"You… um, did you want to come in?" Lance asked, cautious, not wanting to ruin whatever moment it was they were having. If this could even be called a moment. It had definitely been thoughtful on Keith's end to actually come and see if Lance was okay, but Lance wasn't sure if he was overstepping it by inviting Keith in.

But he hadn't needed to worry, apparently, because all Keith did was nod, offering up a wry smile before saying, "Sure. Thanks."

Lance waved a hand in the direction of his room. "Okay. Come on in, I guess."

"Your hospitality's unparalleled," Keith muttered, stepping into Lance's room as he rubbed absentmindedly at his wrists. Lance noticed offhandedly that Keith wasn't wearing his gloves.

Of course. Who'd put on gloves in the middle of the night? Even if they were fingerless, it made no sense.

For a minute, they just stood there, switching their weight from foot to foot and trying to think of something to say. The lights were out, save for the bright lights in the hall outside the room, as Lance hadn't bothered to turn his on, but it wasn't too difficult to see. He could see Keith, looking uncertain and maybe even a little concerned on Lance's behalf, and it was so unlike the Keith that Lance knew from their talks during meals and training on the deck and fighting together in Voltron… but it wasn't bad, either.

Stretching silence.

And then, it was like something clicked.

Like a fourth wall had been broken. The walls were down, the stoic masks they wore by day were taken off, and suddenly Lance found himself crying.

Keith, impossibly, was in front of Lance in a heartbeat, pulling him into a loose hug before Lance had a chance to react. For someone like Keith, who wasn't very touchy-feely in general, the hug really was nice. At least, Lance thought so. And it was more than welcome while he let his tears flow, unabashed in front of his teammate while said teammate stood there, arms circling him like a shield as they let the silence hang around them like their own comfort blanket.

Lance let his head fall into the crook of his friend's neck, sniffling a bit when a stray lock of black hair—courtesy of a mullet-bedhead combo—tickled his nose.

"Stay with me?" he whispered into Keith's t-shirt, sounding a little muffled and a lot teary. He felt Keith nod.

But first they stood there, with Lance's arms coming to wrap around Keith's waist, grounding himself and calming his traitorous, anxious heart.

"We're going to be all right," Keith whispered back, after a few minutes. Lance breathed deeply and sighed, already feeling much, much better, all because he wasn't as alone as he thought he'd been. He didn't give an answer, but he didn't need to.

 **()0()**

The next morning, before the alarms could even wake the rest of the team up for an early morning, Shiro wandered the halls of the ship, on his way to the dining hall to get a head-start on breakfast. For once in his life, he'd gotten a decent night's sleep.

When he came to Lance's room, he slowed to a stop.

The doors were open. Was Lance awake _already?_ That wasn't like him.

Curious, Shiro stepped lightly over to the open doors and leaned his head inside.

The scene awaiting him, while unexpected, made him smile.

Lance was sleeping peacefully, looking more calm than Shiro had seen him these past few weeks. He lay on his back with one arm above his head, resting on the bunched up pillow.

And tangled up with him in the sheets was Keith, on his stomach, with one arm slung haphazardly across Lance's chest while his cheek pressed into the mattress. He was snoring, but not loudly. He was wearing his day clothes while Lance had on his usual pajamas, blue and comfy-looking, and the two looked so content that Shiro had half a mind to convince Coran to deactivate the morning alarms, just to let the two of them have a lie-in.

They both deserved it, after all. Everyone was stressed, what with taking care of the universe and all, but that didn't mean they couldn't take care of themselves, too.

With that in mind, Shiro smiled softly again and quietly hit the button to close Lance's bedroom doors, before he turned to head to the dining hall.

He'd let them sleep a little longer.


End file.
